


The meaning of a kiss

by Marium



Series: Regan week [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (Comics)
Genre: Body Worship, Canon Divergence, Fluff, M/M, comic verse, in a not too sexual way, spoilers for the last few issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 10:16:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11576010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marium/pseuds/Marium
Summary: Whenever there was an evolution in Rick and Negan’s relationship, Negan was invariably the one to take the step forward. That was true for the bad, but it was true for the good too. The first time he decided to press his lips against Rick's skin wasn't any different.Regan week, day 1 - Kiss





	The meaning of a kiss

Whenever there was an evolution in Rick and Negan’s relationship, Negan was invariably the one to take the step forward. He wouldn’t include their first meeting as a development in that relationship - although oh boy, was he the one to take the first step in that particular occasion - , nor the many other times he’d acted far too friendly for the justified glare he was getting back.

The first real step they took towards having something between them other than hate and derision? The admission of fondness and respect towards the other? That was on Negan as well. He was proud of it, even if it took years for Rick to follow his lead.

Negan always had the initiative for the bad. He always had it for the good, too.

Even as they warred one another and Negan cursed Rick’s ability to not only stand up to him like Negan’s power was little more than an annoying fly, but mobilize every man, woman, soldier, civilian, adult, child and even fucking pets against him, Negan couldn’t help but admire him and wish things had developed differently. Rick was someone too special for Negan to be comfortable with the idea of being responsible for his demise. That didn’t change the fact that he wanted the man gone, out of the way of his rule.

Until, again, he was the one to take that second step that took him from begrudging respect towards some sort of genuine admiration, towards being impressed by the man before him and how he defied Negan’s expectation of being handed his violence right back at his face. Negan had never been more thrown off his game than the moment he realized that  _ holy shit _ , Rick didn’t want him dead.

Maybe Rick didn’t do it out of sympathy, maybe Negan refused to let Rick see the change of heart his actions had made in him, maybe Rick’s visits came along with cold, long, silent stares that made it clear how much he despised Negan, but none of that made Negan walk back.

Rick was a better man than Negan, someone he admired and whose approval he craved. Negan liked Rick and there was no going back on that.

  
  


It was in one of those visits to Negan’s jail that the next step came to happen. Against his own will, Rick’s intense hatred for Negan had started to melt down, just a little bit. He didn’t act like it, didn’t want to let the other know, but Negan’s eyes bore right into him and saw it all the same. Rick could feel those eyes on his skin, could tell the man knew, and he wondered what exactly was keeping Negan from making one of his usual crude, sassy remarks about it.

Probably it was because Negan could tell that any mention of the matter would leave Rick unable to not consciously acknowledge it himself, which would make him snap awake and put an end to this weird, illogical fondness. That self-restraint proved to be worth it the day Rick made the mistake of putting his hand near enough Negan for the man to have the chance to touch it.

Before Rick could react, Negan had pulled the hand towards himself through the bars, careful not to throw Rick’s only stable leg off balance, and brought it up to his lips. His smug eyes met Rick’s confused, alarmed ones just before he put the first kiss he ever gave Rick into the palm of his hand, immediately after maneuvering it so Rick was cupping his cheek. Negan sighed happily into it.

Rick’s eyes were wide as he yanked his hand away, Negan easily letting him go. He expected to see a self-satisfied smirk on Negan's lips, a glint in his eyes talking about his smugness for having taken Rick off-guard, for fucking with his head a little bit again. Instead, he found that any sharper expression had vanished and Negan was smiling instead, a smile that for some reason felt genuine and harmless, as soft as the kiss he had put on Rick's hand.

Rick didn’t like what he saw, it confused him. He huffed, hiding the blush that slowly crept onto his cheeks, and left the place before he could dwell on it any further.

That was their first kiss. Rick intended it to be the last. Negan didn’t.

  
  


Negan went for something a little less intimate the next time; his lips got pressed against the back of Rick’s hand, not its palm. He was rewarded with Rick not running away, simple confusion and mistrust in his face instead. Then again it’d be very strange for Rick to have run away; after all, he was the one who put his hand around one of the bars, the hold languid enough for Negan to take the hand again if he so wanted.

“Why did you do that?”

Negan shrugged. “”Why do you think? I wanted to.”

“Of course you wanted to, I just don’t know what for. What exactly do you think this is gonna get you?”

Negan grinned, wide and toothy, and put his hand flat against his chest. “You flatter me, Grimes, thinking I’m able to fuck with your head even now. You’re not wrong. But this time it’s just what you see. I wanted to kiss you because I felt like it. If you don’t like the hand, you’re welcome to get those pretty lips where I can reach them.”

Negan didn’t feel discouraged when Rick mumbled something to himself, probably something not very nice, and left. Quite the opposite; it made him chuckle in the darkness of his cell and look forward to the next time he had the chance to lick his lips knowing they had touched Rick’s skin just as he was doing now.

  
  


Negan slipped more vulgarities in his conversations with Rick - maybe he made more of an effort on it since Rick pointed out his speech had become almost like a normal person’s - and when he had the chance to offer Rick leadership advice he didn’t make an exception. He brought his game up, almost as if he intended to impress Rick with a unique combination of twisted wisdom and profane verbal creativity.

Rick didn’t pay any mind to any of the metaphors the man used. When Negan talked about shoving his tongue so deep into Rick’s mouth he’d be able to lick the back of his throat, though, somehow Rick had the certainty there was no metaphor in there. Negan wanted to eat Rick’s mouth.

Rick should feel disgust. Instead, he found himself using the seriousness of the situation to hide a blush under a scowl.

He didn’t realize it, but he had taken a few steps of his own.

  
  


The whole deal with the whisperers had come to a better conclusion than any of them had dared to hope for. Rick found himself grinning like he didn’t remember doing, relief flooding him in order to extinguish the flames of dread that had risen up. There was pain, sure, but he allowed himself to bask on the victory for a second. The whisperers were gone and so was the horde.

He sighed as he embraced those who had led the dead away. He patted the last one on the back, Andrea, who laughed that she was dying for a chance to clean up and cuddle up with Michonne. He decided to head home for a cleaning of his own, but then he saw a last figure he had yet to acknowledge.

Negan approached him, wide smirk on his lips. Rick expected him to make some smartass comment, but instead the man simply put his hand on Rick’s shoulder and squeezed, his expression turning softer.

A voice in Rick’s head, weaker every time it spoke, tried to convince him to pull away roughly. It was muted by the memory of Negan’s words when they were trapped in that house, waiting for a chance to fight their way out. Slowly, those words morphed into Negan asking him to please acknowledge him, accept his gesture.

Rick knew it wasn’t just his mind. It was what Negan’s hopeful eyes were asking of him. Rick smiled and put his hand on Negan’s shoulder too, in a perfect position for Negan to angle his head and kiss the knuckles quickly.

Later that night, in the privacy of Rick’s house, was the first time they properly kissed. Maybe Negan was the one to close the distance with an uncharacteristic shyness, but Rick was the one to encourage him by moving his lips against the man’s.

  
  


Negan’s lips must be sore, Rick frequently thought. They peppered kisses on Rick over and over again, always seeking out new or old spots to taste. He was never satisfied, he never got tired, and Rick couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered by it.

A playful kiss on his temple when they were in public or a gentle kiss on his lips if he felt particularly loving; passionate, hungry kisses everywhere on his body all night long in what now was their room. Even when they were simply lying together at night, sex done or simply not happening, Negan kept kissing him everywhere he could, slow and gentle and loving just because he wanted to, because he could. He simply needed to feel Rick’s skin under his lips and tongue and hands, treat him like something precious, worship his body like he worshipped the man who owned it.

Sometimes, Negan let his body do all the talking; others, he muttered a feeble, breathy ‘thank you’ between one kiss and the next. He never explained what he was thanking Rick for, but Rick knew all the same. Thank you for letting me live. Thank you for not forgetting about me. Thank you for valuing my advice. Thank you for letting me out. Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for taking me in. Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you for defending me. Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for allowing me to kiss you.

A kiss, Negan’s kiss, could be many things. A sign of pure, sheer affection; of lust and raw desire; of comfort and reassurance and closeness. But Negan’s, while they were all of that, most of the time they were a praise, a physical manifestation of the admiration, devotion and tenderness Negan held towards Rick. An attempt to breathe it inside of him through his skin, let it settle down and make Rick feel Negan’s love in the deepest part of him.

Rick didn’t need the kisses to know, he could feel it just fine. He still let Negan do it over and over again, though, as long as Negan let him kiss back every now and then.


End file.
